"Well, you have done so. Hear her swear that she will go to mass,—she will, too. The only way to work upon such a nature is through fear."
"I am glad to have her go to mass, but I did not wish her to go in this way."
"Be thankful that you have attained your object," he said, dryly. "Now I must go. I hoped to spend the evening with you, and hear you sing."
"You will come again, soon?" said Bidiane, following him to the door.
"It is a good many miles to come, and a good many to go back, mademoiselle. I have not always the time—and, besides that, I have soon to go to Halifax on business."
"Well, I thank you for keeping your promise to come," said Bidiane, humbly, and with gratitude. She was completely unnerved by the events of the evening, and was in no humor to find fault.
Agapit clapped his hat firmly on his head as a gust of wind whirled across the yard and tried to take it from him.
"We are always glad to see you here," said Bidiane, wistfully, as she watched him step across to the picket fence, where his white horse shone through the darkness; "though I suppose you have pleasant company in Weymouth. I have been introduced to some nice English girls from there."
"Yes, there are nice ones," he said. "I should like to see more of them, but I am usually busy in the afternoons and evenings."